I wish you nothing

I loved you so much I married you, took your last name, and had four children with you. I will never forget how you made me feel….. so loved. I felt like the only woman in the world. You only had eyes for me. You proposed to me in our favourite harvester restaurant, we were both dressed to the nines as it was also our datenniversary and we intended to have dinner and catch a film. I was so happy. I, of course, said yes before you finished the question and everyone in the restaurant cheered.

“You two look adorable…. and beautiful!” said an older couple sitting next to us.  They wished us a long and happy marriage. I clung to those words for many years to come and truly believed.  However, our marriage was not always happy and smooth, but we were both hard-working and had a unified vision for the future – make as much money as was physically possible, have a few kids, and then you’d return to higher education, get a great job and we would all move back to our home country… magical Kenya.

Only though, one of us had no intentions of keeping their words. You opted to enrol at university before we ‘had-made-the-money’… something we sooner than later realised was almost an impossible task when living in London and having babies all over the place. In 6 years we had 4 kids under the age of 5! To say our life was mayhem was an understatement – it was a case of parenting by confusion and making a good fortune by accident!

I had to support us all. We decided it was best if I worked nights shifts so I could stay with the kids during the day while you studied, and you’d watch them at night. The downside to this was that I never slept, ever. For over 8 years I never had more than two hours of sleep at a time.  I had to make do with naps here and there throughout the nights and days. You on the hand… thrived. You completed your degree with honours, went on to do a sponsored master course (that’s how good and promising you were) and then a PhD. We were all so proud.

When you finally finished your PhD, you got a great job that took you out of the country. Finally, the dream was coming true, I thought. You couldn’t get a better paying job back home, so we decided to go where the money was, in the hope that we would realise our dreams sooner.  It goes without saying that I had to quit my job, pack the kids up and get the hell out of London and follow you.

Our (our – said lightly coz other than the surname they hardly knew you) kids had to change school and their way of life and make new friends, luckily kids are resilient and they did adapt quickly, but I didn’t. There was not a single soul in that country who could speak the same language as me, and I speak 4 languages!! However, I decided to try and assimilate and adopt this way of life and learn the language, it was easier for the kids because they were still very young and absorbed information like sponges.

I couldn’t find work, so I had to be a stay-at-home mum and by this time, the kids hardly needed me 24/7. I was beyond bored but happy in the hope that our future’s future could not shine brighter! I often wondered if it had been me who’d returned to university and secured the ‘ex-pat’ job, if you’d have adjusted for me, or you’d have convinced me to live in a suitcase ‘for the sake of the children.  Then realised those thoughts were not worth pursuing.

No sooner had we learned the language and made a few friends than we had to move again: you (my love) got promoted and you had to move to yet another country to head the office there. We followed. This cycle continued for 21 years, but I got used to it.  I was proud that we’d lived in every part of the globe, had raised wonderful kids, and we could speak a good collection of languages.

Now our children are all grown and living out their lives all over the globe and doing really well. All the hurt, the anger or animosity or jealousy I sometimes feel towards you evaporates when I look at our beautiful children, at least I can thank you for marrying me young. I now have a whole life ahead of me, as our youngest child keeps reminding me – I think she was affected the most by the death of our marriage.

Our beautiful home was complete and we could retire comfortably and enjoy round the year sunshine. We vowed to soak ourselves in the sun to compensate for the times we froze our arses in the Scandinavian landscape.

But it wasn’t to be…….

One evening I was at home (with a few of our closest friends and family and your children and their better halves) waiting for you to come home to a surprise birthday party, to cut a cake and celebrate your 60^th birthday. You never showed up.  A few hours and several phone calls later, everyone left and promised to call back to find out if everything was ok. I stayed awake for as long as I could, I was worried sick, I called other people we knew but no one knew where you were. I had a sickening feeling at the pit of my gut, but I refused to believe your absence was anything short of been robbed off your phone, money and car and most likely abandoned half-naked in Karura forest.  That would be the only sensible explanation as to why you didn’t come home and didn’t call, I consoled myself.

I hoped the new day would bring better news and you safely back home. I was about to go to bed, albeit staying awake deep in prayer, when you texted to say you are running an errand and will be late “don’t wait up” you said. Who runs errands in the middle of the night, I wondered. I couldn’t let my mind wonder and/or wander too much though in case that persistent thought I had been experiencing lately came to invade my sanity.  I was not ready. However, the gut feeling refused to budge, I was intelligent enough to know something was up.

The ‘feeling’ intensified whenever I pondered over the last 5 years – you hardly talked to me; mostly you talked at me or around me but never to me. You were always on your phone texting but never talking though you giggled to yourself a lot, this made you look ridiculous giggling like a 16-year-old fool in love. You were always so ‘knackered’ to cuddle up in bed or do anything else for that matter. I know we were nearing our retirement age and I thought this was when life started – secured good retirement plans, grown-up kids, mortgage paid and a few investments all over the place?

A few months later you told me that you wanted to visit our daughter in New York. I volunteered to come with you because I missed her too: I also thought we needed a city break away from the sticks and to reconnect. You declined, saying you also had other businesses to tend to, and that you were only seeing our daughter because you’d be in the city!! You had become quite arrogant in your old age!!

It didn’t sit right with me, so I made my own arrangements. I followed you to New York. You met and had lunch with our daughter once the whole month you were there. You stayed at an apartment in the West village owned by a woman slightly older than your daughter. She had a 5-year-old child. This child resembled one of our sons at that age. It gave me a chill, but still, I refused to accept the ‘feeling’. Was this child yours? I wondered.

Two years later, you asked for a divorce. The naïve me refused to accept that it was finally happening, but the sensible me knew (deep down) it was only a matter of time, as with all things. You told me you had another person (when you said person, I secretly hoped it was a man so I could blame it all on your hidden sexuality – no such luck).

You said that person had two young kids. And (…..the bombshell), you wanted to be with them. You promised to continue financially supporting our kids still in university, but after that, all ties would be cut. You said I could keep whatever I wanted. I was too horrified to protest or agree. I could not understand why you wanted to do the diaper thing all over again (though you hardly did for your big kids). You made it clear that the issue was not for discussion, you had made up your mind.  You’d been having an affair with this person for over ten years.  I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t – all I did was say goodbye and wish you nothing.

Now as I sit on my porch watching my (our)grandchildren play in the white sand, I feel nothing but joy but still wish you nothing.  I won’t love you but I can’t hate you either, I’m indifferent; I won’t wish you evil but I can’t wish you well either, I’m indifferent; I choose to remember happy times albeit selectively and avoid sad times indefinitely. I used to think you were my soulmate and the love of my life but you’ve proved me wrong.

But I can thank you for my children.

Goodbye you, son of someone, I wish you nothing.

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